Companions
by DreamaLirit
Summary: Reverend Hale has been summoned to aid Salem in it's hunt for witches-and he brings a companion along. Romance but no lemons, OOC
1. Chapter 1

**Hi guys, so this is my first ****Crucible**** fanfiction, so I hope it's not awful. I truly enjoyed reading it—I've also seen the movie, which I equally enjoyed. Just to be clear, I decided for Reverend Hale to be unwed for the purposes of my story. Hope you enjoy, feel free to leave comments. **

**-Dreama**

John POV

It was a beautiful day in Beverly when I received a letter from Reverend Samuel Parris of Salem, begging my assistance in a hunt for witches. His daughter, Betty, and the neighbors little girl, Ruth, had become ill under suspicious circumstances and they believed the cause lay in the dark arts. Their town doctor had already examined them, but nothing had come of it, and the town was growing fearful. He asked that I come and extort my talents to see if the devil or his witches had their claws into Salem, and please hurry.

Joanna was cooking lunch when I waltzed into the kitchen and showed her the letter. She'd never been especially thrilled about my work, but understood the need to exorcise demons from our world. If I felt I was doing the Lord's work, she made herself content. She'd accompanied me on many voyages around New England, but Salem was one place we'd never been. I read her the letter, explained how I'd met Samuel Parris at Harvard- he'd thought he was so fabulous back then, smart and from a well-bred family. And he'd proved himself right in almost every extreme, which annoyed me. Just because his family was oh so British and modestly successful, he thought he was better than some of us, who had worked our way up and were at Harvard on loan. We'd studied together, though, because if you can't beat them, why not join them? Once I became an expert on witchcraft and demonic arts, a singular talent, I was finally better than my old acquaintance at something.

She agreed that we had to go and at least check it out. These things had turned out to be nothing before, but other times we'd found numerous witches, and wizards too. Anything was possible, and the idea was slightly thrilling. We'd be on our way tomorrow morning; it was too late to leave today. So I began packing books, clothes, and anything else I might need tomorrow before lunch was finished. Salem was a small village, so we couldn't expect them to have things we might expect here in Beverly. Joanna had lived near Salem, in Peabody, until she came to Beverly at 13.

I did some reading, prayer, and went for a walk before supper. Focus was crucial to discovering where the devil was hiding, and I wanted to be at peace with the Lord and myself to prepare for tomorrow. Was there a better place to be with the Lord, to commune with him and his creations, than outside? When the wind blew, there was a small chill in the air, and so I had on a light jacket. The town bell chimed at six, and I walked back from the bay side to find meat, vegetables, and piping hot bread on the table. There was no better cook in Massachusetts than my Joanna- she could take anything from the pantry and make a meal. We said grace and made small talk, avoiding the talk of exorcism that would begin tomorrow. It wasn't a topic that Joanna enjoyed, and so we chatted about the weather, books, her sewing, and anything else I'd found to be a safe topic over the years. After dinner there was Bible reading, the one book I would need but hadn't packed yet, and then went to bed.

We were both up before the sun the next day, packing bags into my carriage and making sure nothing was forgotten, the house was in order, and it was to be looked after by a neighbor until we got back. It began to rain as I helped Joanna into the carriage, got in myself, and then we were finally off. My heart gave a flutter of excitement as the carriage lurched toward Salem. Could there be anything more exciting than doing God's work? I smiled at Joanna, and her lips stretched into a crescent moon back.

She had brought knitting along, but if I desired to talk, and I did, she would indulge me. We were companions as well as master and servant, and she was by far the best servant I'd ever had. She'd travelled with me since she came to work with me at 14, two years prior, and had been the only constant in my life since. Horses, jobs, and other servants had come and gone, but Joanna had always been there. She wouldn't have come to work with me at such an early age expect for the fact that her parents had died in a fire when she was 13. It was acceptable for a girl to work as a servant, and did the Bible not call on us to care for orphans? My cook had just quit, and she took over that at first, and when I dismissed my male servant (boys were lazy, and they really should be apprentices), she took over that as well. Now I had a gardener and stable man, but she did everything else. If I needed anything, she could find it or make it, and with her the household ran smoothly. Her aunt had agreed to let her work for me those years ago- that was whom she'd lived with at first in Beverly. As if her life was not sad enough, her aunt took ill, and so she came to work for me shortly before the poor woman's death.

The rain was still spitting down when we arrived in Salem. I stepped out of the carriage first and found at least half the town waiting and expectant. Parris came forward, greeted me, and a man named John Proctor helped me with my books. They were heavy, and we shared the load. Joanna had stowed away her knitting and emerged from the carriage as well, and we all went into Parris' house. Rebecca Nurse, known even in Beverly for her charitable works over a lengthy and prosperous life, was sitting at the table with her husband. The Putnam's, whose daughter was also afflicted, were pacing the room, and Proctor left soon after helping me. Apparently he didn't get along well with Parris, and he seemed to not have a taste for unnatural phenomenon. I couldn't blame him. The Devil wasn't pleasant to be around, but some people had the God-given talent to hunt him down, and I was luckily one of those people.

Joanna went to set up our sleeping chambers while I examined Betty. We'd be staying with Parris, as there was no inn in tiny Salem. Betty was in an odd slumber, and I took note of her ailments while I closely examined my books. If a witch was underfoot, I'd be sure to root her out as quickly as possible. However, I didn't want to be hasty and simply see what I wanted to see. Accusations were weighty, and I wanted to be strong in my beliefs before I made any. I examined Ruth and heard some sparse tales from villagers about suspicions and odd occurrences that had happened lately. Things were beginning to point to the supernatural. These people, though, had seemed convinced of witchcraft for a very long time. Most of them were fearful but grateful to see me, hoping that I would put an end to this.

But the day was drawing to a close, and I was weary from travel and work. Joanna had helped prepare stew, and we all ate heartily and silently. I did not really know these people, so supper conversation was sparse. Parris objected my asking to let my 'servant girl' join us, so she had to eat with Tituba. Depending on the town we visited, some host homes were fine with Joanna eating along with them- she was a white girl, after all. However others were sometimes against it, and she understood that it was not me that dispelled her from the table.

We read the Bible together in my room before saying our prayers and retiring to our respective rooms. I had to get a hearty night's sleep for the difficult work I would be doing tomorrow. Casting out demons and discovering witches was no easy task.

I was up with the rooster crow the next morning, and after breakfast Parris and I sent about discovering who was causing the illness to the girls. I'd thought on it heavily last night and decided it surely was witchcraft. Now the only question was who was performing it, and how to find her/him out.

Parris acknowledged that the girls had been dancing in the forest- _dancing_, like heathen! Abigail Williams, one of the eldest in the group, finally broke that it was Tituba who had put them all under a curse- made them dance, made a witches brew in the dead of night with _animals_ in it. Joanna had eaten with Tituba the night before, and as we went to fish the slave from Barbados out of her lair, I couldn't help but be worried for the girls and _my_ servant girl. Suppose she'd done or said something of the Devil to innocent Joanna, and now she too would become sickly or cursed by the woman? Though she had yet to confess, it seemed she would. Parris and the girls seemed convinced of it.

When we pulled her out of her hut, demanding to know of her ties with the Devil, she began screaming. Joanna rushed from the kitchen and stood on the edge of our circle, as we tried over and over to see if she'd made a compact with the Dark One. Thrash after thrash was laid until finally, crying, she admitted that she had, indeed, signed Lucifer's book. It was no surprise she'd been so conflicted and was even now crying- breaking people free of the Devil was difficult. Now, though, she seemed at peace that this had come out, that she was no longer chained to the Evil One. We moved as a whole to go inside, bringing her with us up to Betty's room. Joanna intercepted me on the way, and we walked the short distance together.

"You didn't have to beat her." I sighed, and she turned her head away. My methods didn't need her approval, and she knew that. It hadn't even been me holding the switch. But one of her mottos was 'be kind to every living creature', and she tried to live that out and have me live it out as much as possible. It distressed her to see others in pain.

"It was necessary, but I'm sorry you had to see it. After we're done upstairs, we'll all be ready for lunch. If you wouldn't mind, you may have to go back to the kitchen." She nodded and slipped off as we headed upstairs. The girl didn't have a stomach for witch hunting anyway- it was probably best if she stayed down here, and it put my mind at ease too. Had anything Devilish gone on last night, surely her attitude toward the beating, or my telling her to stay in the kitchen would be different. No, she was entirely herself, and I was thankful.

The spell was finally broken as Tituba's full confession came out. It was a dark, twisted tale, and we realized that she was not the only witch among us. Apparently there were other women involved, and the Dark One had almost convinced her to murder Parris as well! Just as she was nearing the end of her tale, though, Abigail threw herself at my feet, begging for the light and mercy of Jesus. She began spewing names of people who had been with the Devil, and when her spell broke, so did the other girls. Betty's eyes opened, and she too began rattling off the same names as Abigail, Tituba, and others. A cacophony of blessed sound drowned the room, and I threw my praise to God. Parris rushed to arrest the offenders.

At supper that evening, grace was longer than usual, and all the girls joined us. There was excited chatter as we ate, and the food, as always, was delicious. Tituba and Joanna again ate alone after serving us, and I hoped their food was as good. She normally prepared food for the both of us and ate with me, and that was how I liked it. There were only two of us, why should we both eat alone in the same house? Here though, things were different.

We had to begin going to court the next day, to put on trial the accused witches. Tituba's testimony was heard by all, and sent shivers down some spines. Then the witches were brought in, and the crowd gathered in the church hushed. The first woman confessed, talking about how the Devil had come in the black of night and made her sign his book while she trembled with fear. The next woman protested her innocence, even though the first one insisted she too, had been there. But this woman seemed to be on the stretches of sanity, and I'd heard from Parris that she had often claimed that she had seen Lucifer and was in constant contact with him. We questioned her for nearly an hour, but still, she protested and protested her innocence. Also, whenever she cried that she was no witch, the girls seemed to go into a fit. Stomach pains, choking, fainting, as she denied witchery while they begged her to release them. Once she was dragged from court room, it all stopped, and some cried with relief, the poor girls. The trials took the majority of the day, and the moon was appearing by the time we left the courtroom.

Supper was ready within the hour, but I had yet to get a glimpse of Joanna. It was a rarity not to see her at all during the day, but since she had stayed away from court, it had been one of those days. Nonetheless, I missed seeing her. I missed her smile, the way her eyes would light up when I jested, and reading together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys, so this is a two-shot, which means this is the second and last chapter. I know the paragraphs are long, but I hope you'll read and enjoy it. **

Joanna POV

Once the trials started, I barely saw John anymore. Not that I saw him that much to start with- as soon as we arrived in Salem, he was instantly busy, and had remained so. I expected it somewhat, because whenever we went somewhere, his job prevailed. It was how priorities were in his life, and sadly, I was third on his list. First was God, who had always been the main priority in his life. Second was his job, as he believed that was ordained by God and therefor he was supposed to serve fellow human beings through his employment. Thirdly on that list was me, Joanna Peabody. That was okay; after all, I had duties to attend to here too. Still, at home we had meals together, prayers, and Bible reading. Sometimes we'd go for a walk along the bay or stroll through town when there wasn't as much to do.

After two days of noteworthy trials, long and harrowing, I could tell he was getting tired. Yes, he considered it the Lord's work, and sometimes the Lord's servants got tired. But now he wasn't sleeping until quite late, nor eating as much. I worried for him.

Normally we rose when the rooster crowed, before dawn. But every now and then, after certain events like the night previous, we both woke past dawn. I stretched, my head still on his chest, and he woke when I did. Our eyes met as our bare limbs bumped into each other, and he smiled.

"Good morning," he whispered, and I couldn't help but smile back. His fingers grazed my back, and I rolled off of him, holding part of the blanket to my chest. It was warm in the bed, but the air outside held a chill in it. If I could have stayed in that bed for forever, I would have. Yet sunlight continued to stream through the window, so I knew we would have to rise. With the blanket clutched to my breast, I leaned over the side of the bed and searched the floor for my undergarments and dress.

"John, where did you throw my dress last night?" He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to wake. I moved back near him, prodding his arm. "John, it's light out."

"I was up late," he mumbled, and smiled a bit at his own joke. His eyes peeked open and I smiled back at him. Even with us both tired and hair tangled, he still looked at me as if I was his own personal angel. And he, despite the early hour, was still handsome.

"Oh, I am well aware you were up late, Mr. Hale." His grin stayed on his face as he rolled on top of me, parting my legs and kissing me breathlessly.

"One more go," he asked, and I was laughing but groaning, attempting to pry him off me. Had we not made love enough last night? He tried to ignore my protests.

"John! John, I'm tired, and it's daylight." His lips found mine again and I knew if I could not deter him, we'd be enthralled with each other once more.

"I'll be gentle and quick. Come on love." That was when a door creaked, and it became certain that someone else was awake too. We both heard it, and finally, he consented. My shift was on his side of the bed, but I found my dress myself. His shirt was on my side but he knew where his pants were. He helped lace me in, daring a few light butterfly kisses on my shoulder and neck before one final one to my mouth.

Now, though, I had to sneak down the hall to my room. Should I be caught, there could be disastrous consequences. We could attempt to dance around the truth, but the suspicion would be forever there, planted in their minds and hearts. It was a risk we shouldn't have taken, not in a reverends house with cries of spirits and witches all about. But for those lovely stolen hours of basking in each other's love, it had been worth it. Being with him all night, having him hold me when we were spent, and whispering to each other until we fell asleep. He'd said he loved me, and I returned the sentiment- whispered last night, after our lovemaking but before we fell into dreams, and said again this morning, so I knew it was real, not an empty promise only made in bed. I had repeated it both times, because I truly believed that this _was_ love. How many times had this happened over the previous year, and a few months in the word love had seeped in? Before it was a dare, a question, and now it was a certainty. I thought on that on my quiet journey down the hall to my own lonely chamber.

As days turned into weeks, those cursed trials continued. Every day more people were accused, probably innocent, yet found guilty because of foolish girls. The court believed them every time, couldn't see that one would say something and the rest would agree, and suddenly, it was certain they were in league with the Devil. Never mind any proof or hard evidence- the fake torture to the 'poor afflicted girls' was enough for any conviction. As the weeks went by, the people accused grew in social standing. At first it had been beggars who had openly talked about knowing the Devil, but now it was upstanding members of society. Could the judges not see how mad the world had gone, that witchcraft was formulated as an answer to anything now? I could find no time to tell John my beliefs- the only times he was in the Parris household was to eat and sleep, and he did both sparingly.

Amid all of this, I realized my cycle was late. I wasn't a very scheduled person, but it happened every month without fail, and by the middle of November, it hadn't. I waited another week, hoping it would come and I would know there was no child in me. Yet that week passed, and another, with not a drop of blood.

The trials and accusations continued on as my small world seemed to come to an end. John was absent most of the day, but I knew eventually he would have to visit. Our last tryst was nearly two months past, and he would be reaching the limits of his self-restraint. What would I tell him when he finally came? How would he react?

On a cold December evening, the night dark as velvet and the stars lights of heaven, he came. I was in my nightshift, putting up a book when he entered without knocking. He didn't say anything as he came toward me, drew our bodies close, and kissed me. I gently pulled away and sat down, making him look wounded and confused. Never had I denied him before, why start now? He sat next to me and readied an apology while I spoke.

"We can't tonight John, I'm sorry," he opened his mouth but I shushed him. I'd built up my courage and had to tell him now. It wasn't fair to tell him no, not after his hard spend days and stressful nights, always and forever at that blasted courthouse. He deserved something to take his mind off of things for a little while; he deserved _me_ for a little while. Yet we couldn't, not with recent developments, and he had to know why. "We can't because I think I'm with child." His jaw dropped to the floor and he glanced my body over before sliding a hand tentatively over my belly.

"You're...you're sure?" I shrugged and stood up, beginning to pace as he sat, the other facilitator in this crime of passion that had grown into more than ourselves.

"I'm not positive, but my cycle's late and my breasts are sore and I'm tired and I've been nauseous for days." His eyes went from me to his lap, as if thinking over the information I had gifted him with. Would he say it was nothing, suggest calling a doctor? Yet how could we, when there could be no rightful explanation to have a reverends single maidservant examined for pregnancy. He seemed overwhelmed.

John POV

A baby. We were going to have a baby, she said. Should I be joyful at this prospect of a new and wonderful life? Or should I be apprehensive about a child conceived between two people yet unwed. Nevertheless, I knew Joanna- my dear, sweet Joanna, would never lie about being pregnant of all things. She was as nervous as I, and it could not be a fib.

The world had gone wild by that time. Every person, every place held witches and spirits. It frightened her and was beginning to cause me unease. Why not leave this town of the mad? I broached the idea to her, and she agreed right away. For months, she'd been hinting that maybe these people were daft; perhaps we should leave, etc. Now was the first time I agreed with her.

One morning we left. I had my own carriage and horse for a reason, and the previous day I had denounced the magistrates and quit the court. Our belongings were packed and we were off, but not for Beverly. In Beverly, everyone knew I was Reverend John Hale, with a young female house maid. We couldn't come back from Salem and have our child, not without rumors and gossip surrounding us for the rest of our lives. So we stopped for a brief time in Beverly, I collected my assets, arranged a bid for the house, packed a cart with anything else we might need, and we moved. Our new home would be Quincy, Massachusetts, past Boston. It was still along the bay, but far enough south that I was confident my full reputation would not be known. We'd be married along the way, perhaps in Chelsea, so we could honestly say we were married upon our arrival. There we would be safe to have our precious baby, and live a new life. I would never hunt witches again.

**The end guys! Thanks for reading, feel free to review. **

**-Dreama**


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